The man from FUNK
by violentandfunky
Summary: A story about Mary Sue's and the people who hunt them down.


The man from F.U.N.K.

Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Despite the fact that it goes against my very best interests to start such a non-typical introduction with such a typical line, it will have to do. In case you don't know me, I'm the greatest left handed Canadian scientist who has dabbled in musical dramedy in 2013. I am codenamed, Mr. Knowitall. I asked for Doctor Knowitall, but my 'superior' didn't budge.

Enough griping about my problems now, for there is a very real, horrible one permeating unreal universes across the globe. These things have been well known for a while, made fun of, targeted, bashed, and eradicated. However, they keep coming back, better and in different forms. Mary Sue's, Self Inserts, you've all seen one, you've all likely made one, and you all hate them. However, as my company is more formal, and after one or two Managers named Mary Sue complained about workplace discrimination, we've come to refer them as F.U.N.K. Of course, we're not referring to a type of music based off of Jazz and Blues and popularized by Sly Stone and the Parliament Funkadelic groups. It stands for, Fearless, Unpleasant, Neverdying, Killers. As you can see, we tried to make the acronym fit.

Of course, not all are guilty of murder in the technical sense. Some just 'accidentally' hurt actual characters to butt into a plot, write them out of existence, demote them to mere stepping stones, so on so forth.

Our job is to find them, secure them, remove them, and then, naturally, put them out of their misery.

This is naturally where our story begins. I'll let camera feed tell the rest of it.

**Booting: F.U.N.K.y camera 0001**

**Access: Knowitall, Mr.**

**Access permitted**

**Engaging: **

The camera switches on, the grainy, dull footage a bit shaky and low quality, but good enough to clearly see and hear what's going on. It's strapped to one man, dressed in a white tunic. Next to him is another man, clean shaven and young, a stupid smile on his face wearing a similar tunic, blonde hair going down to one eye. He smiled, "Alrighty then! Camera's on! Care to tell the ever-so-lovely audience at home what we're going to be doing?"

The voice that held the camera seemed older, and a lot less enthusiastic. Gruffly, he spoke back, "Find him, cop him, bring him back." The boy frowned, "Ugh! Be that way then! We have a villain F.U.N.K here in Legend of Zelda, his name is Desmond Darkshadow Doomsday. Zelda is his sex slave, he's killed Link, he rules all of Hyrule, and he's only fifteen. There's statues of him everywhere, and in fact…" He nudged the camera, revealing a giant, obsidian statue of an extremely buff and extremely long haired man, in the middle of flexing his abs and his foot pressed on a man with a particularly pointy hat. "See? What a tit. Admittedly cute though. Hum."

The younger one ran towards the statue, and his senior ran to catch up to him. Only now do we get a good idea of the environment. It's a long, barren grassy plain, no civilization in sight. Mountains peek out from view, tall, black and imposing. It seems as if the lush and beautiful Hyrule was destroyed, and replaced with something a new creator thought to be better. As they reached the statue, the blonde kicked it, with the older one yelling, "Dammit, Jackson, don't do that! F.U.N.K's are omnipotent, he can…"

The sound of hooves clattering on the dry brush distracted both of them. Jackson waved at the new arrivals. A small group of knights, perched on incredibly large and mean looking horses, stared down at them. The knights were imposing, dark black and spiky armor covering their entire form, large spikes on every corner possible. Giant swords, jagged and roughly carved were placed on their armored backs. One of them spoke, in a voice so dark and deep it barely counted as a voice, more as a force. **Who dares disturb the kings monument to his greatness?**

A finger shot from the camera to Jackson, who laughed. "Oh, that was me. You see…" He spit on the statue, the kings boot glistening a bit. "Your king is an egomaniac, a freak, probably kinkier than a sailor's rope, and only fifteen. You guys must really be shitty knights to be at his command." The knights didn't say anything, until the chief one (Which you could tell since he had the biggest and largest spikes), rode up. **For your blasphemy, you will be tortured for seven years, then brought out into public and tarred and feathered, and then you shall be decapitated, and then you shall be drawn and quartered, and then we take the sandpaper rod out and-**

"Mmmhm. Real interesting stuff, chaps, but, I have a king to slay, and well…" Jacksons hand glowed, "You're breaking some rules." A wave shot out from his hand, and the knights looked at each other in abject confusion. Then, the horses fell, bodies crushed from the true weight of the obsidian armor. The knights tried to get up, but the spikes that rooted their enemies in fear now rooted them to the ground. So, they flailed and rolled around, looking more like particularly spiky seals than the great destroyers of a mad and powerful king.

"Ehehe! Never gets old, you know? That, my friends, was a 'Reality Ensues' spell! If something doesn't follow the rules, it suddenly makes them do it, whether they'd like to or not. Weight comes crashing down, machine gunners lose control, swords are too heavy to lift, so on so forth! Jesse here is the best at these kinds of spells. Right, Jesse?"

"No comment."

"He's just being a dick right now, but he is!" Jackson chuckled, going up to the Knight, hopping onto the heavy dark armor with a rare dramatic fervor. "Now, tell us where your king is, or we'll leave you out here for the birds!" The knight rang out from the helmet, his voice now far less imposing, "Okay, okay! Just head North from here and look for the giant obsidian tower! You can't miss it!" Jackson smiled, hopping off the armor. "Alright then! Now, you will all be taken back home to your respective villages. You do not recall who we are, and if pressed for any information, we do not exist, understood?"

The men all gave a sign of agreement, or the best they could considering their state. "Yay! So, see you!" Jackson clapped his hands together, and the armor fell apart, revealing nothing inside. "That's the best part! Poor things are always stuck like that, permanently put on at the whims of their controller until we come along." He smiled, "So, north, he said?"

Jesse gave a faint grunt of agreement, and walked in that direction, Jackson tailing after him. "You see, he probably knows who and what we are, and is scared outta' his pants! He is /so/ screwed when we come over to show him who's boss! He'll probably go down easy, I mean, he's probably going to-"

A metallic roar echoed through the plains, and a dark shadow swooped overhead. "Oh, shit." Jackson and Jesse ran as fast as they could, the roaring steadily getting louder and closer, until finally the beast that produced it landed. It was a dragon, seemingly made from cracked rock, heat emanating from it. The two claws were embedded in the dry soil of the plains, and the grass around it seemed to dry and die from merely being exposed to its heated body. It looked at the two with the kind of stare that a man gives an ant trying to sting it.

"What is that?" Jackson said, in the type of calm one had just before breaking out into massive hysteria.

"Volvagia. We can't Induce Reality on it, it exists in the games world, so it follows all the rules."

Jackson nodded, "Oh. So, did we come here armed?"

"No."

"Do we have backup?"

"No."

"Do we have anything?"

"Nope."

"Should we run?"

"Yes."

The two took off in the opposite direction, the camera jittering and shaking as they ran away, the dragon gliding just above them. A dark claw peeks out from the top, snatching Jackson by the neck and lifting him up, the shadow dissipating. Jesse looked up, blood dripping from the sky and from the now receding Jackson. "First day on the job too. What a bother, this is going to be hard for Central to write off." He shook his head, turning off the camera.

**End of Footage**

Well, now. Indeed, this is going to be hard for me to write off. Informing the family and all that, all this crying and controversy and whatever. In the grand scheme, as long as this Darkshadows F.U.N.K is killed, that's all that matters. Some call that Philosophy bad or even 'sociopathic', but in the end, that's what works for our cause. Besides, he knew what he was signing up for when he got in. Maybe. I don't know, it's… It's not my job anyways, regardless, so don't go pinning the blame on me! Hmph, I've already been demoted enough already. Very well.

**Note from Central Command: We do not support Mr. Know-it-all's ideals and he has been reprimanded and demoted for attempting to pass the blame onto others and insulting the deceased. From now on, his tagline will just be Know-It-All. He shall continue showing footage as he desires. Thank you for watching the above footage and we would recommend spreading information about F.U.N.K's, and where to call if they are particularly Virulent.**

**-CM Head: 05**


End file.
